


No New Messages

by Im_only_mildly_ashamed



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, I didn't have to, I had to research wine glass terminology, I mean, I'm realising, M/M, New Years, Sad Gon, Texting, Wine, Written for Killugon day, also, and set on, but I did, is kind of silly, it's both, not a slash fic, which
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_only_mildly_ashamed/pseuds/Im_only_mildly_ashamed
Summary: Killua stops texting Gon a few months after they split up, but Gon is hoping that New Years will be the time to reconnect.





	

Gon was curled up into a sad little ball on his bed.

“I miss my friend.”

He whispered very quietly to no one in particular.

Beyond the trauma of watching someone die, beyond the pain of scarring someone you love, this was the fact that kept him hollow.

He had tried rage. His knuckles still bore the scarring of stupid brawls.

He tried self-loathing. The thin, orderly scars on his ribs could attest to that.

He tried things less destructive, but those offered not much more than the alternative

He looked for consolation, and he looked for atonement.

He didn’t find much of anything.

‘If I get my nen back, I can be strong again.’

Leorio warned him that power won’t cure his misery.

The older man had tried that too.

It didn’t much matter either way.

Gon could not get his nen back.

He had tried.

His meditations had proved fruitless, and his attempt to reopen his aura by force had ended painfully.

He was weak.

He was scarred.

And worst of all, he was lonely.

Killua had kept in touch for a few months, but it was clear he was slipping away.

So Gon gripped harder, got greedier, demanded more.

And Killua slipped away even faster, he started dodging texts, cutting their nightly calls short, and eventually, cutting them all together.

The last text Killua sent was the single word “Goodbye”

It wasn’t a sudden dismissal of his friend, but the end of a conversation (that Gon had mostly driven).

Killua made no response to Gon’s “Good Morning!” the next day, which was not immediately suspicious, but it still hurt.

After a failed string of conversation starters, Gon decided to give up, maybe he’d be more talkative to tomorrow.

The next day, Gon’s “Good morning” was met with silence.

He waited a few hours, then asked if he’d offend Killua the other day.

Later that night, he ask Killua to stop the silent treatment, it was freaking him out.

Gon didn’t send any messages for two days after that.

Then all he said was “Killua. I’m sorry. Please say something.”

Their silence lasted nine miserable months.

 

Killua was alone, as he preferred to be at loud celebrations, sitting in the massive windowsill that filled his otherwise pitch black room with frigid moonlight.

Killua lifted, then tilted the the lip of his bottle into a glass.

He continued to tilt, until finally the deep red began to fill the wineglass.

Finally, he completely upturned the bottle and the last drops of wine dripped into the already brimming glass.

With practiced steadiness, he brought the deep red fluid near his lips.

Downstairs, he could hear his excitable sister and her friends shouting out a count down.

God, her friends.

She’d been here for a week and already made friends who sobbed like babies when they learned she was leaving.

“THREE!

TWO!

ONE!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

As Alluka and her group of hellions earned yet another noise complaint, the sky exploded into a glorious rainbow of fireworks.

When the first volley had barely left his retinas, the second exploded into view, another dazzling display of shapes and colors.

When the light of the second had died, in came third.

There were something like ten displays, each featuring different and wondrous configurations and colors.

Throughout this amazing light show, Killua kept the glass poised , as though he were turning to face an interruption.

When the final glorious sparks died, KIllua turned back to his drink.

He ruminated for a little, and would’ve shifted the liquid around in the glass, but it was much to full for that.

His phone, the beatle he had since youth, buzzed against the glass of window.

Killua waited a moment, as if thinking carefully about the danger of even touching it.

After this brief pause, he shifted his wine from one hand to the other and picked up his phone.

After flipping it open, he read a message from the person he loved more than life and hadn’t seen in a year.

“Happy New Year.”

Killua chuckled.

Then threw his phone across the room.

“Happy fucking new year.”

And he drank.

 

Gon stared hopefully at his phone for nearly an hour.

No little dots appeared in the bottom right, no response.

Nothing.

Back to hopeless, empty silence.

Gon curled into a colder, sadder little ball.


End file.
